


Lights Will Guide You Home

by Luka z Rivii (wayward_dream)



Series: Heart Day 2020 Prompts [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Disputes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Being an Idiot, Hurt/Comfort, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23441893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_dream/pseuds/Luka%20z%20Rivii
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Series: Heart Day 2020 Prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686376
Kudos: 51





	Lights Will Guide You Home

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“Don’t make _what_ harder? What are you….Geralt? What are you doing?” you asked quietly, fearfully.

You’d come home to find Geralt in your kitchen, waiting for you to return. He’d taken in the fresh bruise blossoming on your cheek, the tears glistening in your eyes, and wordlessly turned and left the room. When you chased after him you found him in your room, packing up the few things he’d taken out of his bag.

You grabbed onto his arm. “ _Geralt_. Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say,” he growled harshly, wrenching away from you and turning for the door.

You planted yourself in front of it, arms crossed. “I disagree. Geralt please–”

“I can’t _do this anymore_ ,” he snarled and you flinched. Stared at him with glassy eyes while he watched you stoically.

“Do….what…?” you whispered. Praying he’d say anything other than what you feared most.

“This,” he snapped with an abrupt gesture between himself and you. It felt as though your lungs collapsed, suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the room.

“Geralt,” you whispered, fresh tears leaking out of your eyes. “Don’t…don’t do this.”

“It’s already done,” he growled, pushing past you. He was careful not to touch you, not even a brush of shoulders as he slid by and you felt like your knees were going to give out. You squeezed your eyes closed, stayed with your back to him as you spoke.

“You’ve clearly already given up. Nothing I can say will change that when you’ve made up your mind.” You sniffed, shuddered, took a deep breath. Your voice still trembled as you continued: “Go, then. But don’t do it because you think I don’t want you. That couldn’t be further from the truth.”

You heard the metal of your door knob bending from the force Geralt clenched it in his fist. He exhaled harshly. “You’re an idiot.”

Abruptly his hands gripped your shoulders hard enough to bruise, spun you around so you faced him. His jaw was clenched so hard you saw muscles straining, his eyes burned like molten gold and….and they were damp with tears, oh gods.

“Geralt, please, don’t–don’t cry,” you murmured, reaching up and brushing his eyes dry. He shook you, ignoring your words.

“These people are turning on you, and it’s only going to get worse. This–” His fingertips traced your cheek, feather light but still enough to make you wince as the bruise throbbed. He immediately dropped his hand like he’d been scalded. “–this is only the beginning. You’re going to destroy yourself and your life over something that _isn’t worth it_ and I won’t let you do that to yourself!” He was yelling again, words almost a roar.

“Don’t say it’s not worth it, what we have is the best thing that’s ever happened to me!”

 _“I’m not worth it, you idiot!”_ he yelled. You were stunned into silence, staring at him as he panted. He glared at the floor, released you finally and stepped back. Jerked away when you started to reach for him. In the silence that rang following his outburst, his quiet voice seemed deafening. “I’m not worth your suffering. Nothing is worth that.” Geralt rubbed a hand briskly over his face, turned away from you.

“You’re wrong,” you told him quietly. He froze as you continued: “You don’t get to decide what you’re worth to me. If….if I’m not enough for you, if what we have isn’t making you happy, fine. Fine, I can accept that, I can let you go because I can’t make you stay if this isn’t what you want. But don’t you _fucking dare_ decide _for me_ that this isn’t what I want, that you’re not good enough for me. You are _everything_ to me, and you are good enough and if you try to leave me because of _self-deprecating bullshit_ I will run you through with your own sword and tie you to my bed so that you can never leave me.” You angrily swiped your eyes and stared at his tensed back, waiting for his decision.

When his shoulders shook you thought at first that he might be crying but–no– “Are you–you asshole, are you _laughing_?” you demanded, shocked.

Geralt finally faced you again, and while you were irritated and raw and aching, seeing a grin playing on his features made you feel warm and a bit steadier, gave you hope things could still work out. “I’m sorry, dove, it’s just—I could best you with both hands tied behind my back even if you had a sword and I didn’t.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossed your arms. “Oh really?”

“I’m afraid so,” he teased, striding across the distance between you and sweeping you into a kiss. You hummed, threaded your fingers into his hair and kissed him with all you had, trying to make him understand how you felt, how much what you had with him meant to you. Silently begging him not to give up on it so easily. His response was so tender, so careful and loving it had you tearing up a bit when he finally pulled away again. He swiped his thumb under your eye, brushing away a stray tear.

“Forgive me?” he asked.

You kissed his thumb. “This time,” you allowed. “But the next time you’re being an idiot you’re not getting off so easily.”

“That’s fair,” he agreed, and then you were too busy kissing him to respond.


End file.
